Sam The Brat

Tom entered the house and listened. He was home a good three hours before anyone else should be, except maybe Charly if she came in without Logan. Charly normally stayed at the library on campus, despite not being a student herself.

Tom knew one of the protein bars normally refueled him, so he took a gamble with grabbing six of them. He needed to fuck at least Wanda tonight to see if it induced a transformation, and he would soon see if this morning's fun had changed Catherine. But he wanted to increase the dosage for the other three too if he could.

Was it fucked up of him to try to find ways to make his wife's family guzzle his weird, mutant jizz? Maybe. But he was in too deep now.

He opened the fridge to see what lay inside. A half-opened energy drink! That would do it. He cranked two loads into it while eating a protein bar. Soon the drink sounded thicker, but he hoped it would do it's job.

As he zipped up his pants, he heard the door open. Samantha, Catherine's younger daughter was home.

"Hey Sam, I thought you had class today," he said nonchalantly. She pouted.

"I'm ditching. Didn't feel like going today," she said, angrily. "Why do you even care? You're not my dad," she grumbled.

Tom had to think. Wanda went from "angry and aggressive party girl" to "adoring older daughter" in personality. Had Sam changed from "distant student" to some other dynamic as well? It was weird how each person's brain interpreted the "Happy" rule without direction. Catherine became flirty. Wanda started being helpful, but Tom wasn't sure there wasn't an **** level to that still. Carrie became obsessed with him, but that apparently had only amplified herself. Ashleigh became highly suggestible. Actually, they all had. Wanda also had a daddy/daughter thing happening, maybe that was happening here too?

"Samantha, I may not be your biological father, but you l-live under my roof!" he said, trying his best to remain calm. He was non-confrontational by nature, really. "So you'll listen to me." Samantha started to quiver a little, a rush of arousal and fear overcoming her.

"Y-yes, Tom..." she said, then shook her head. "Wait, no! You're not my dad, and that's not changing!" She threw her messenger bag at him, which caused him to fall back towards the couch. She stomped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. She started to grab something to eat, and Tom had an immediate thought.

"Don't do that, you'll spoil your dinner!" he yelled at the kitchen.

"Too bad!" she shouted as she grabbed a meat and cheese snack box.

_So she is motivated by spite. Defiance? Tom thought. We can make this easier_, he mused. "You better not drink the rest of the Ji- the sports drink in there! That's for your mother!"

"Oh, this sports drink?" the 18 year old brunette asked as she grabbed the pitcher. _Apparently semen isn't an emulsifier, _Tom thought upon seeing the faint layers in the liquid. Samantha held it up to her lips, ready to drink straight from the pitcher.

"Don't you do it," Tom said, trying to channel his inner cartoon rabbit.

"You're not my dad!" Samantha shouted again and began to chug the remaining half a cup's worth in there. At least half of it had to be the jizz that made it Jizz-erade. Jackpot, Tom thought.

"That's it, young lady!" he said, putting his dad voice back on. "You deserve to be punished!"

Samantha put the empty plastic pitcher down on the table and ran to her room, with Tom giving chase. She slammed the door in his face and he pounded on the door. "Open this door right now!"

"No!" she shouted through the door.

"You're getting punished, whether you like it or not!" Tom yelled again, trying to sound like an angry dad as best he could.

"No! I didn't do anything!" Samantha really leaned into being the brat. A complete reversal from the good girl persona.

"You have until the count of five. One!" Nothing. "Two!" Nothing. "Three!" Nothing. "Fo-" the door clicked and Tom saw a dejected Samantha return to her bed.

"I'm sorry Daddy. Was I bad?" she asked, sounding less like a little girl and more like an adult woman roleplaying. Which is basically what she was.

Tom noticed the coy sound in her voice. "Very bad. Not listening to me, ditching class. I'm disappointed in you," he said, crossing his arms.

Samantha put her hands behind her back. "Just disappointed? No punishment?" She asked.

"You're getting punished, don't worry," Tom said. "Get on the bed."

"No!" She said playfully. Tom thought. How does one get a brat on the bed? He reached out and grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head, her brown curls laced between his fingers.

"Ow ow ow I'm sorry I'm sorry," she cried as he pulled her towards the bed. He sat on the edge and spread his legs, pulling her over his knee.

"Good girls get praise and treats and time on their phones. Bad girls get the wi-fi password reset and spanked." Tom pulled down on her sweatpants, made to look like jeans, and exposed her cute, firm, disobedient butt. Samantha felt a warmth at the sound of the words "Good girl," which was immediately replaced by a dropping sensation when he said "bad girl," like falling on a roller coaster. That with the anticipation made her not fully process his words until she felt the cold air on her bare skin.

"Wait, what?" She exclaimed as Tom sat on her white and pink floral bedspread, rubbed his left hand over her exposed cheeks, and then reached over and grabbed her hairbrush. She shivered at his touched then snapped out of the tingling feeling when he removed his hand. He held the large wooden implement in his hand and swung it.

"Oh, this will do nicely," he said as it swished through the air. She felt the tension rising within her with the noise of the brush cutting the air. He brought it down, the flat wooden side ringing out against the teen's toned flesh. She let out a cry at the sudden, sharp sensation. He continued.

"You've been rude to me for a while now. Let's do ten to start," he said as he brought down the brush again. "One!" He yelled out as it smacked her. "Two!" She let out an eep and a moan with each hit until he hit ten across her bare ass. The back of her hair brush had a small wet spot on it from her excitement.

"Are you sorry?" He asked her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"That's no way to talk to your step-father. Try again," he said.

"I'm sorry Sir," she said softly.

"No... I think we need an agreement. Wanda calls me Daddy. What should I call you for you to call me Daddy?" He asked her.

She struggled for a moment. "... Princess. Can I be your princess?" She asked slightly hopeful. She wondered why she said that. She just always dreamed of being called that, unconsciously, but she didn't want Tom calling her that. Right?

"As long as you're a good girl, Princess." She felt the warm fluttery feeling again. "Now, I'm going to go turn off the wi-fi access for you for the week," he said, letting her go. She immediately lost the warmth, the emotional whiplash wrecking her.

"What!? No, you can't!" She pleaded.

"And why not? I pay for the wi-fi," he said.

"... um... I... if I promise to be good, can I have it back?"

"I would need proof, Princess." Tom thought of what was about to happen.

"I'll... I'll do whatever you want! But I have to message Lynn! Please!" She begged.

"Lynn? Like Lynn Brown, your blonde friend? I thought she moved."

"She did... I message her everyday. I have to. Please."

Tom stopped. He thought. "Is she okay at her college?"

"No. She hates it. But her dad's forcing her to go there. I'm the only friend she has left " Tom nodded.

"I won't block you. But if I see anything other than a messaging app, I'm shutting it off for two weeks and we will figure out something else. Understood?"

"Yes Si- Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," Tom said and he turned to leave. Samantha was left with a happy feeling in her stomach. Why did those words do that to her? Why was she turned on? When the door closed, she screamed into her pillow in frustration.